


After Work At The Bar

by DigitalPopsicle



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, using alcohol to cope with work stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 01:43:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20538104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalPopsicle/pseuds/DigitalPopsicle
Summary: Cor knows of a bar in the Galahdian district where no one knows who he is, or cares who he is, and it's the perfect place for an after-work drink.Seems like someone else needs a drink too.





	After Work At The Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'Ever At Your Side' zine!
> 
> The zine is completely focused on friendships and all that platonic stuff, and this fic can totally be read that way if you want.
> 
> But honestly I'm a CorNyx shipper and it's completely intended to be a pre-relationship fic. I might write a sequel or second chapter one day which leads into them starting a relationship, but for now this is just the piece I wrote for the zine!

It was rare that the Marshall had a night off - as in actually truly being off duty for once - because one thing or another would always come up and he'd have to help sort it out or look into it. It wasn't that he was forced to, rather his own sense of duty made it hard to pull away from his work, even if he knew he needed a break. But there was one thing that could truly make him just pull back and do something for himself for a change.

[ _Drink?_ ]

The text was short and simple, but Cor didn't even need to check who it was from when he got the notification on his phone. No one else texted him during work hours.

[ _Yeah._ ] The response needed no further embellishment. They had this down like a routine by this point.

Around 8pm was when Cor was sat in his usual seat on the far corner of a bar in the Galahdian district, glass of whisky in hand with one waiting next to the seat beside him. No one really recognised him there, or if they did they didn't care, so it was a very quiet and relaxing place to be when everyone in the main parts of the city knew of Cor the Immortal. He’d started going there on a whim and it had become more or less the only place he went on a night off when he wanted a drink.

Nyx was late, stumbling into the bar with a sour look to his eyes, uniform only half off. It looked like the man had gone home, thrown off his jacket, and left immediately afterwards without getting changed into his civilian attire. Already that told Cor the other man hadn't had the best day. He only ever invited him out for drinks when things had been rough, and it was either have a few drinks or risk running his mouth to the wrong person.

Cor learned young that mouthing off to superiors was never the better option of the two.

He didn't ask questions, just raising his eyebrow at the man when Nyx slumped down hard on the barstool, grabbing the pre-ordered glass and downing the contents in one gulp. No easy feat, considering the kick the alcohol had.

“I'm never gonna go a day where someone doesn't remind me I'm not from around here.” The younger man grumbled, a snarl to his mouth as he slammed the glass back down on the surface of the bar.

One of those days then, Cor thought, vocalising his thoughts on the matter with a gruff snort instead of words. Once again he didn't make a comment, but that was how things were between the two of them. Cor was an open ear, listening to every complaint Nyx had with no judgement. It took a few drinks for the stoic Marshall to open up about himself or his own problems, usually being a man of few words and only saying what needed to be said. Even he needed to vent sometimes though.

“I'm out there risking my ass for a kingdom I wasn't even born into while they're all just standing around watching. I'd like to see them look Niffs in their dead MT eyes while they're being gunned down from all sides.” Nyx continued, following his words with a heavy sigh.

Cor simply responded by clapping the man firmly on the shoulder in a silent act of solidarity, and Nyx patted the hand in thanks as a small amount of tension seemed to leave him, rage turning to annoyance and disappointment.

“It’s a sad state of things, with people not liking immigrants...” The Glaive sighed again, flagging down the bartender and ordering another two glasses for the pair of them. It was going to be one of those nights.

“People like that never get far in life.” Cor finally spoke up, trying to say something that would make Nyx feel at least a little bit better. “Everyone has something to say, good or bad, and you just can't let the bad things drag you down to their level. You do well holding your head high above it.”

“I take it you had similar experiences, Mr ‘Joined the Guard at Fifteen’?” Nyx gave him a side look with a mirthful half-smile, the mood shifting to something a little lighter, much to Cor’s pleasure.

“Had a lot of people telling me I was too young, and I probably was, but they used it as an excuse to make me seem incompetent despite the fact that King Regis - well, he was Prince back then - had chosen me for his retinue, so clearly I had to be doing something right.” Shrugging, Cor drained the last of his first glass, pushing the empty aside in favour of the new one the bartender put in front of him. “Unfortunately to serve King and Kingdom when you're even slightly different from the norm means you have to grow thick skin.”

“I appreciate everything the King has done for us refugees, but it's obvious that not everyone agrees with what he chose to do.” Nyx idly swirled his drink in the clear glass, leaning his chin on his hand before taking a long drink.

“There are some who think he could do more.”

“Only so much manpower he can spare, I guess.”

“There's a lot of reasons, some I'm not able to divulge but-”

“Yeah, I know, but still… I appreciate you listening to me anyway.” Nyx sighed once more, but there was a crook of a smile on the corner of his mouth. “Y'know, it's really nice to just… vent to someone who understands, especially from the other side of the fence.”

Cor snorted, but returned the small smile. “The grass is always greener on the other side, I believe the phrase is.”

“Don't tell me you want to be a Glaive instead of a Guard.” Nyx chortled, shaking his head in mirth.

Shrugging, Cor flagged down the bartender to order another round when he spotted Nyx was close to the end of his second glass. “Being the closest guards to the King comes with a lot of responsibility. The amount of people relying on you can get stifling. Sometimes, in comparison, the idea of being ‘just’ a Glaive seems almost a breath of fresh air. But then again… I also think I've seen sides of the King from the perspective of something other than any martial position.”

“Yeah? I guess you've known him for so long you're kinda close?” Nyx spoke as the bartender refilled their drinks, not taking any cash, not taking their orders. It was yet another layer of familiarity to their meeting. The pair of them paid their tab once a month like clockwork when their paychecks came in.

“When the Prince was born, for example, the King nearly had a breakdown over the fact Noctis slept nearly constantly, until someone finally clocked him over the head and told him that it's just what babies did.” Cor chuckled very lightly at the memory, barely a sound, shaking his head as he sipped on his new glass of Galahdian whisky. “I think that one was Clarus. Gladiolus would've been about two at the time, I think, and it was as if he wanted to give the King back as good as he'd given when Clarus was a new father.”

“Man, sometimes it's hard to see any of them as … well, people.” Nyx joined Cor with the glass, draining the last of his second and moving on to the beginnings of his third.

Galahdian whisky was well known for its strength, especially in the refugee district where it was more of the equivalent of ‘moonshine’ to any actual known whisky. The Marshall was fairly sure it was just bottled and labelled under the name ‘whisky’ to evade any legal ramifications, but as long as he could have a quiet drink and a night to himself he wasn't about to turn them in for it in the foreseeable future.

While it made him more loose lipped then usual, Cor couldn’t deny it was smooth. Even if they were knocking it back like water now, as they grew more and more talkative they wouldn’t be sipping it quite so readily, actually enjoying each other’s company.

Besides, the Marshall trusted Nyx not to tell anyone else about the ridiculous personal anecdotes he had about the King, which was saying something considering his struggle to make ‘friends’ with anyone else in his line of work.

“Reminds me when Libertus saw a friend of ours get hurt in training for the first time.” Snorting at the memory, Nyx was relaxing in his chair and turning more towards his companion. “He was so wound up that she’d ended up in the med bay that both me and her had to smack him over the head and tell him it wasn’t that bad. We were training and things were bound to happen, so he’d better get used to it.”

“Don’t get me started on Regis’ warping mishaps…”

“No, you can’t just say that and tell me to ignore it. You’re going to tell me every little detail because I can’t imagine King Regis doing what green recruits do at all.”

And so Cor told stories. Remembering the good times between them on their journey was nostalgic, bringing a rare but genuine smile to his face as Nyx returned his tales with some of his own. Some from Galahd, some from Insomnia, but all were serving to make the two of them forget, if only for a while, the annoyances and rage their work brought them.

All the while the bartender supplied them with drinks, eventually leaving them the whole bottle so he could tend to other customers as the night grew busier. Still no one bothered the two in the corner, sat on the very end of the bar perched on stools they were slowly beginning to fall out of.

Nyx howled with laughter over the idea of Regis with baby vomit on his royal suit, while Cor's face could've split from how much he smiled at Nyx having to cut out Libertus' first attempts at braids which left his hair in knots. The two men needed the break from the harsh reality their jobs faced, and being reminded how human they both were was refreshing.

"Closing time!" The bartender called out from the other side of the counter what felt like only minutes later. Cor checked his watch; they'd been there for over four hours.

"Didn't realise it was that late already." He commented, raising an eyebrow and moving to stand out of his seat. His feet touched the floor, but he felt as if his entire body wouldn't stay still, swaying as his vision swam.

Tentatively, Cor took a couple of steps. Eventually his eyes focused but it was very clear how drunk he was. Galahdian whiskey was definitely the good stuff.

Chuckling besides him, Nyx stumbled far more than him, slinging an arm around his shoulders as the two moved to exit the bar. “Thanks for listening, man. ” He said sincerely, words slurring but mostly coherent. “Feels like Titan just got off my back. You’re just… the best.”

“Any time.” Cor’s mouth quirked into a crooked smile while they left the door, greeted by the cool air outside. “You know how to reach me.”

“Y’know, when you don’t answer, I feel like warping through your window to get your attention, ‘cause man I need something to look forward to at the end of my shift.” Nyx let go, leaning against a nearby lamp post for support instead while the bar was locked up behind them, soft clicks and clunks of locks audible amidst the rowdy diminishing crowds.

“Ruin my walls, I make training Hell for you, Ulric.” Cor frowned at him, pointing a finger at him, but neither of them could keep a straight face at the action. Nyx burst into peals of drunken laughter and Cor couldn’t help but devolve into snickers.

“How much did we drink? You never laugh this much, Marshall.” Nyx wiped a tear from his eye, slumping against the post. “You sure you want to go all the way back to the Citadel? You can crash at my place.”

“I have work in the morning. We both do.” Cor gave him a pointed look, beginning to walk in the direction of a better place to hail a cab from, but his pace was slow and steady as he tried to look more sober than he was.

Nyx raised an eyebrow, following his pace in an over-exaggerated manner. “It’s like watching a deer walk for the first time. Should start calling you Bambi.” He laughed again. There was no way he’d get away with saying this to the stoic-faced Cor Leonis whilst sober, but with the companionable drunkenness between them he could pretty much get away with anything..

“You dare. I let slip about the real reason you never turned up for work on New Year’s Eve.” Cor shot him a challenging glance with a cruel smirk, but turning to look at Nyx meant he wasn’t watching his footing or surroundings. A step or two later and he stumbled into a trash can, loudly knocking it over and almost falling into the spilled garbage until Nyx grabbed him and hauled him back.

The crash of the metal can was drowned out by Nyx’s laughter, until the man was chuckling so hard he had gone silent and could barely breathe in his hysterics. A little embarrassed, cheeks flushed but knowing it was his own fault, Cor sighed deeply and kicked the sticker wrapper from his boot.

“Maybe your sofa is appealing after all.” He admitted, rubbing his head.

Nyx clapped him on the back, pushing him along with a grin. “Thought you’d say that. C’mon.”


End file.
